


White-Haired Devil

by Inactive_Account



Category: Bleach
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Male Slash, Masochism, Multi, One Shot, PWP without Porn, Sadism, Threesome - M/M/M, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inactive_Account/pseuds/Inactive_Account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juushirou takes an interest in Mayuri . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	White-Haired Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Khalid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalid/gifts).



“Well, someone’s certainly caught your eye.”

Shunsui cast a knowing gaze to his partner. The look that Jushiro wore was endearing; it was that same look of longing that spoke of a pure desire, something somehow both innocent and lecherous, and it showed a dangerous depth to Jushiro that many others failed to see. There was a beautiful smile upon his pale face, which made him seem both approachable and unassuming, but there was something so telling in those green eyes . . . something sharp . . . something that people usually only associated with Gin or Kenpachi.  

It made him smile to look upon, as there were so few that shared the secret. Everything about Jushiro just screamed ‘mentor’, ‘friend’, ‘peacekeeper’ . . . no one saw the darker side to him, which longed for some form of control over the uncontrollable. There was nothing worse than being ill, but to Jushiro -? Every day was a form of physical hell. Shunsui couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be imprisoned in one’s own body, forced to endure a form of torture on a nearly constant basis, and for there to be _nothing_ to help except prayer and patience. He felt almost surprised that secret part of Jushiro survived the pain.

Jushiro pushed a loose lock of hair away from his face, although it fell back almost immediately, and Shunsui smiled behind his drink at the sight. He kept insisting that his partner grow out those bangs, but Jushiro always insisted in turn that it wasn’t a problem. Still, there was a benefit to long hair that only caused Shunsui to smile to himself all the more, as he hoped that Retsu or Little Nanao didn’t see him, because those two women always seemed to just _know_ what was in his mind . . . it was scary, really.

“There are not many that understand my illness,” said Jushiro.

“Is that so?” Shunsui tipped his hat. “I don’t think even Retsu or Mayuri fully understand it. It’s one thing to know the textbook symptoms and biology behind it, but it’s another to know what it means to feel a continual pain and to feel your body weakening.”

“I just need some . . . _release_ today, my friend. Would you mind?”

“Not at all. I just hope you remember the rules.”

Jushiro looked across the meeting room to Mayuri. The other man was dangerous in his own right, as well as vastly misunderstood by others, perhaps even by himself. There was a vast potential for empathy and sympathy, such as for his ‘daughter’ Nemu, and yet he held a strange talent for turning off his more humane side, almost like turning off a light and with the same amount of ease. He could replace basic emotion with a detached curiosity, and that was quite fun for some to try to break. Not many _could_ break Mayuri, either.

“There are some rules that must never be broken,” said Jushiro.

“Now that doesn’t sound like you at all,” teased Shunsui.

The day was drawing to a close, so the weather all around felt cold as ice. It was enough to make Shunsui grateful for the extra kimono draped over his shoulders, and – whilst some likely thought him eccentric for it – it provided a necessary extra layer on nights such as this one. He carefully slid it from his shoulders and placed it across Jushiro’s, determined to make sure that his partner didn’t slip into one of his ‘bed-rest days’. It was bad enough to know that Jushiro suffered, worse to see him incapacitated for so very long.

“It always fascinates me,” said Shunsui. “The strong often wish to be broken, whereas the broken often wish to do the breaking. You wish to gain control . . . he wishes to lose it. It’s a good job that you both make such an attractive pair together.”

“So you wouldn’t mind another one of our games, Shunsui?”

Shunsui gave a loud laugh: “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

* * *

Mayuri was attractive.

It was hard to see beneath the make-up and costumes, but it was there nonetheless. He currently lay in Jushiro’s bedroom stretched out on an old futon, one that no one would mind being stained or torn, and his body was as bare as the day he was born. There were long and painful scars all over his body; some raised and swollen, others soft and faded, but all visible to the naked eye and painful when received. They crisscrossed him as a history of his past.

Those eyes were golden and narrowed, almost venomous and full of passion, and Shunsui always admired how they hid a depth of pain that he strove to hide from everyone. It always amused Shunsui, because these were the moments where his humanity shone through. There were many always surprised to see fear or disgust on Mayuri’s face, as if he were incapable of basic human emotions, but he was as capable as anyone else, particularly when he was laid naked on his stomach with hands and feet tied. The ropes were tight and spread-eagled.

“I’m always surprised the blue hair is natural,” he said casually.

Jushiro shot him a dark look. It was enough to make Shunsui back down, as he raised his hands in mock surrender and settled himself on a small stool in the corner. He forgot that this was _their_ time, not _his_ time, and he was merely a chaperone and willing witness to the events that took place, very rarely with cause to intervene. Mayuri never had cause to use his safe words, whilst Jushiro would never go past the limit. It was rather admirable in a way; the amount of trust between the two men, as well as the understanding of their limitations, was perhaps something that went beyond even a sexual couple, such as Jushiro and himself.

The way Mayuri strained at the ropes must have hurt him, with the material digging into his startlingly white skin, so that the paleness turned into a painfully inflamed redness, and no doubt it would bruise or break soon enough. He wore an expression almost like a scowl, as he glared across to Shunsui, and his blue hair was messy and sharp about his features. Those long eyelashes were almost enviable, not to mention his incredibly pointed features and high cheekbones. It was an unconventional beauty, but a beauty nonetheless.

Jushiro looked like angel, naked just behind the futon, and yet the emaciated appearance of his body was evident despite such a beauty. He stood taller than Mayuri, although Mayuri would be unable to so much as roll over in his state, and his long hair flowed down his back in elegant waves, so that Shunsui was tempted to run his hands through it. There was a flush to his cheeks, which was either sickness or arousal, and Shunsui licked his lips at the sight, grateful that he would later have the other man all to himself. Mayuri cast an embarrassed glance over to him, which made Shunsui smile; being fully dressed added to the sense of dominance he exuded. It almost made him a part of the game.

“Do you remember the rules?” Jushiro asked.

Mayuri made a condescending noise and shuffled his body against the futon. The burgeoning erection pressed against the soft material beneath him, as anticipation began to get to him, and – as much as he likely loved giving control to another – he couldn’t quite let go of the power he usually held at all times. It was enough to irk Jushiro, who slapped the whip in his hand onto the palm of the other hand. The sound shot through the air and made even Shunsui wince, whilst he saw every muscle of Mayuri tense almost at once, including his buttocks.

“Of course, I remember,” said Mayuri. “If I can remember –”

“Ah, I do apologise, I believe I may have led you to believe I sought an explanation.” Jushiro smirked and bent down on one knee. “I simply required a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ response, but it seems that I have been a bad teacher throughout the years. I ought to discipline you accordingly.”

“Is this where you expect me to say ‘green’ for go, hmm?”

“This is where I expect you to learn to behave.”

The whip came down with a rather indescribable sound. Shunsui heard it move through the air, with something between a whistle and a whoop, and then there followed the sound of the heavy material of the whip on tensed skin. It struck Mayuri just beneath his shoulder blade, where it left a long red welt along his otherwise white flesh, and at once a bruise began to form around the mark, as if his body were trying to alert him to the pain inflicted. The other man let out a hiss of breath, as his hands wrapped around the bindings on his wrists.

There was something quite erotic about how his back arched, followed by how the whip gently – almost sensually – stroked down the length of his spine and dipped into the cleft of his buttocks, and Shunsui licked his lips in a primal hunger. The tip of the whip pressed at the round hole, as if it dared to press in, before it pulled back and another blow was delivered to the right buttock. It caused Mayuri to cry out and instinctively grind his erection downwards.

“You spend so much time working lately,” said Jushiro cheerfully.

Shunsui saw his partner’s length begin to grow. It was quite an impressive sight when fully erect; it was wide enough to nearly split him in two, long enough to feel it the next day, and nestled in amongst the most perfect white curls. He wanted to reach out and take it in his hands, to feel how it was strangely both hard and soft at once, like metal coated in velvet, and to dip his tongue into that salty slit. There would be plenty of time for that later, however. This was about Jushiro. This was about what Jushiro and Mayuri _needed_.

“I am always glad to coax you out of your laboratory,” continued Jushiro.

“You simply enjoy having some semblance of control,” snapped Mayuri. “It is lucky I despise perfection in all its forms; these scars become good practise for my cosmetic surgeries, but that is when you are strong enough _to_ scar. Is this all you have, Jushiro?”

The anger flashed in Jushiro’s eyes. Mayuri simply wore a devilish look, his grin wide and bestial, and it became clear that he strove to antagonise Jushiro. It worked. Jushiro at once brought down the whip with more strength that he ought, so that a large cut appeared across Mayuri’s left side. The blood welled at once, as small bubbles came to the surface slowly, and then the line of red formed . . . it seemed to appear as if by magic, before it trickled over and a stream of blood ran down his side. Mayuri gave a moan of pleasure.

There followed a rain of strikes, with each crisscrossing the other in a magnificent pattern. The red interlocked with the white, as it warmed the prone man’s skin, and Shunsui admired how his partner’s muscles bulged and tensed with each strike, until he gradually began to grow more and more tired. Mayuri was flushed with arousal, as he ground against the futon beneath him, and he clutched the restraints until his knuckles turned white.

It was with a heaving breath that Jushiro dropped the whip. He stood with chest heaving, crimson with the all over blush, and his erection standing proud against his body. The tip touched his stomach, where it smeared pre-come over his skin, and Shunsui realised that his presence was needed for this part. He stood carefully to walk behind his partner, where his clothed body pressed against Jushiro’s back, and he took the thick length into his callused hand, as he milked it for all it was worth. It felt hot and smooth in his hand, so wonderfully soft and enjoyable. He nuzzled into Jushiro’s neck to place a row of kisses.

“S-Shunsui . . . Shunsui!”

The ropes of come landed over Mayuri’s back. Jushiro shivered and let out a piercing cry, as he latched onto Shunsui’s arms for support, and Mayuri arched his back with signs of total arousal. It must have hurt him greatly to feel salt in the wounds, but he simply tried to thrust against the futon with desperate movements, as he writhed and whined in desperate need. It was Shunsui that helped Jushiro to his knees, before he untied Mayuri and rolled him over onto his back, where he looked up with glassy eyes and mouth wide open.

“I – I think I was punished enough,” gasped Mayuri.

“I think so, too,” said Shunsui. “My, I think you deserve a hand.”

Shunsui gently lay Jushiro down beside Mayuri, before he crawled over the other man and took his erection into his mouth. It was lucky that Jushiro had just enough strength to hold down Mayuri’s wrists, as there was no way he wanted those nails clawing into his skull, and it allowed him full access to the length before him. There was a highly bitter taste, just as always, but he was able to fit most of it into his mouth quite well. He used his hand to stroke what he couldn’t reach, whilst his fingers teased at the balls beneath.

In a matter of seconds, he tasted the come flood his mouth. It caused him to choke somewhat, as he never really held the best of gag reflexes, and the bitterness made him nauseous enough to spit out the contents onto the futon. Mayuri scream in ecstasy, as a few stray squirts hit Shunsui square in the face, and Jushiro merely laughed at him until the laughter turned into a coughing fit. Well, the bright side was that both men were done, so that meant one thing:

“I hope that means it’s my turn next, Jushiro.”

“My body is yours as always, Shunsui.”

 


End file.
